Jane's Favorite Teacup
by Unbeautifully-Broken
Summary: Never drink your tea in front of Lisbon if you've probably gotten her fired. Jisbon. Oneshot. Comedy if you squint.


**A/N: I haven't posted or updated anything in a while, but this came to me as I was driving to work and I wanted to type it up before I totally forgot it. And this is PROBABLY the longest one-shot I have ever written. Based on the lyrics to "Numb" by Linkin Park. Yes, I realize this song is old. No, I don't own it or The Mentalist. But I have so much fun pretending :) Enjoy!**

***Rated K+ for shattered teacups and crushed origami creatures

* * *

I'm_ tired of being what you want me to be_

_Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface_

_Don't know what you're expecting of me_

_Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_

_Caught in the undertow_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_Caught in the undertow…_

* * *

There were some days that Lisbon allowed herself to feel a little proud. She never gloated. She never reveled in seeing the look of appreciation on peoples' faces, with the exception of her team, Minelli, and her family. And though her faith taught her that too much pride was sinful, she couldn't imagine how a person wasn't supposed to feel quite pleased with themselves when they'd done what everyone had said was impossible. So she assessed herself once more in the bathroom mirror and gave her reflection a nod of approval. No one else had to know. Jane probably would, but there wasn't much she could do about that.

Tommy Volker was in custody. The witnesses at the zoo that had seen him trying to kidnap an innocent little boy, his would-be victim, were so many in number that he'd never be able to silence them all. Jane had been right when he'd said that Volker was truly scared that the investigation was hitting too close to home, and now his stories were beginning to unravel in the interrogation room. That was yesterday.

Today, Lisbon had a meeting with Judge Patricia Davis. As she left the ladies' room to walk down the hall to Davis' office, she felt her glowing pride beginning to spill over into a smile. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she knocked on the judge's door.

"Come in, Agent Lisbon," said a stern, muffled voice. Lisbon pushed the door open.

There was Judge Davis sitting behind her desk; to Lisbon's surprise, Gale Bertram sat in one of the two chairs opposite her, one ankle resting on the alternate knee. He sat up straighter as Lisbon walked into the room. She willed her face not to show her confusion.

"Judge," Lisbon said, greeting her. "Bertram…"

"Well, good morning, Lisbon," he began immediately. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Lisbon obliged, sitting just as Bertram stood. He walked back to the door and closed it. Then he locked it. Lisbon quirked an eyebrow at Davis, who looked remarkably unaffected by Lisbon's presence.

"I'm sure you're wondering the reason why I called Mr. Bertram here."

"No, ma'am." Lisbon enjoyed watching the woman's eyebrows shoot up. "Well, a little." She noted that Bertram didn't take his seat again. He only walked slowly around Davis' office, examining books on shelves and glancing out the window.

"First and foremost, allow me to congratulate you, Agent, on capturing Tommy Volker. I know you had very strong personal reasons for wanting him behind bars." Her voice was a kind of drawl, and her gaze shifted easily between Lisbon's face and the papers on her desk. This was a test. Lisbon mentally cursed herself. She should have seen this coming.

"It's true that I felt Volker was guilty long before we had concrete evidence of the fact. But everything worked out. He's already let a lot of things slip during interrogation." She'd started strong, but as she'd talked, Davis leaned back in her chair and nodded her head. Jane had told her once that this body language meant, "I'm listening, but I don't believe you."

"That's wonderful news, Agent Lisbon. There's just one little problem with that statement." She sounded just a little happy that there was a problem, too. Lisbon glanced up to see Bertram with one hand in his pocket, the other spreading the blinds on the window apart. He didn't seem to be hearing any of their conversation.

"What might that be, ma'am?" _Be like Jane, _she told herself. _Admit to nothing; give nothing away._

"You mention 'concrete evidence.' I'm assuming you are referring to the evidence you assured me you had found when you came into my office demanding a warrant?"

The blinds made a snapping sound as Bertram withdrew his hand.

"That evidence…was not…" Lisbon blinked. She couldn't come up with anything. _What would Jane do? _

"Let me help you. That evidence never existed. You didn't get what you wanted initially so you barged in here, blurted out some made-up story and went on your way, never batting an eye. The truth is, Agent Lisbon, that you _lied_. Granted, this time, you were lucky enough to catch Volker in the act of committing a crime. What concerns me is how many other times you may have falsified evidence to make someone _you didn't like_ go away." Davis jerked her hand to the side as she said, "go away," as if she was tossing out invisible garbage. It seemed ridiculous to Lisbon. But then again, Davis had caught her in a lie. So "tossing out invisible garbage" could just as easily describe her own actions.

_Be like Jane, _she'd thought. She shook her head.

"No? It's not true? What part of that have I gotten wrong, then?"

Bertram had finally tuned in to Davis' admonishing voice. He stood beside her desk, arms crossed, looking down at Lisbon.

It was an ambush.

"Agent Lisbon, I think it's time you stopped following in the footsteps of your consultant and told the truth." Bertram was enjoying this to some degree, but Lisbon knew he would do his best to cover it up in public. But she was painted into a corner in this room, and she knew it. She let out a quiet sigh.

"I felt that the only way to stop Volker was to act immediately, on my gut feeling that I'd find something. I needed a warrant…but I couldn't get one without saying I had evidence. It's true that my desperation to stop him took control-"

"That's all we needed to know. Thank you." Davis dismissed her and scribbled on a document in front of her. "I can't technically suspend you at this time, Agent Lisbon," she said, still writing, "but I will be submitting the statement that you deceived an honorable judge into providing you with documents that she otherwise would have withheld." Davis snatched up the paper and handed it to Bertram, who took it without looking at it.

"And then what?" Lisbon said, keeping her voice as even as the judge's. But it was Bertram who spoke next.

"Then I will unfortunately have to recommend your suspension to the higher-ups. There may even be an ethics investigation." His face was completely blank. This wasn't the kind of conversation he normally had to have; he really didn't like giving this kind of news to anyone. Lisbon felt just a little sorry for him.

Then her head began to swim. Her fingers and toes went numb. She couldn't breathe, and her whole body felt cold.

Ironic, then, that it looked an awful lot like she was being fired.

The next few minutes were a blur. Lisbon made it to her car with her badge and gun still in her possession, though she didn't know for how long. Unable to focus on any particular thing beyond what to tell her team, she climbed into the driver's seat, taking deep, shaking breaths to steady herself.

Her phone started ringing, shattering the quiet. Lisbon pulled it out of her jacket and scanned the number. Jane.

"Hello, Jane," she answered, and it didn't surprise her that her voice dripped with venom.

"Uh…hello Lisbon's evil twin…just wanted to let your lovely counterpart know that I'll be a bit late getting into work today…"

"Why might that be?" Lisbon jammed her key into the ignition a little harder than was necessary.

"Because I can't find a sock to match the one I'm already wearing."

Lisbon shut her eyes tightly.

"So find another pair, Jane," she spat through gritted teeth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's up with you? You're even more snippy than usual. It's Thursday, you know…just one more day until-"

"Snippy, huh? Well, you might like to hear my news. I probably won't be there to _be _'snippy' much longer. Thanks to you. Because I took _your_ advice. Because I was trying to be more like _you. _I don't know why I thought I could get away with it, because no matter how much I may _act _like you, only _you _can get away with things no sane person should ever think of doing. You manipulative, I don't even-_bastard._" Her face felt hot with rage, and her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. She hadn't even moved the car yet. She wasn't sure it was safe to drive anywhere. She hoped Jane didn't tell her where he was, because she still had her gun.

Even when she had every reason to hate him, she still wanted to protect him. The realization only made her angrier.

"Lisbon…I'm very sorry that you feel that way…but keep in mind, your job has been threatened before, and we always work it out. And in my defense, I didn't _force _you into anything. You knew what I would do in the situation and made a gut decision. You know what they say, 'Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!'" Jane finished in a sing-song, but Lisbon had known him long enough that she could detect a trace of worry in his tone. Worry for her job, her sanity or just himself, though? She couldn't tell.

"Jane…I'll…I'll call you back." Lisbon hung up and tossed her phone into the passenger seat. She waited for just a minute to see if the phone would ring again with Jane's call. It didn't.

Maybe he'd gotten the message then.

Once she decided that she was able, Lisbon drove to her favorite park, not far from the CBI. It was a nice day, so she parked the SUV and found an empty bench to sit and think.

The sun began to burn her skin through her black pants and jacket, so she moved to sit in the grass beneath the shade of a tree. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she wondered over how she'd gotten to where she was.

And Lisbon came to the realization that all paths of possibility led back to Jane. She'd risked her job for him, her integrity for him. Sometimes he caused her to question her morals and her faith. He'd made her feel horrible about herself (and good, too). He was smarter than her, more persuasive, more creative. Even with the murderer who stalked him and his gruesome past, Patrick Jane had a better chance of achieving happiness in his life than she did. And that was a blow so gut-wrenching that her eyes popped open and she gasped aloud.

In a very simple, human way, it hurt. She hurt so much. How could Jane, someone she considered her friend, seem to care so little for her job? It was the most important thing in her life. Wasn't it?

_Isn't it?_

A quiet little voice told her, _It used to be_. She snorted, and ignored it.

The park was eerily quiet, with no people in sight. A piece of fast food wrapping blew across the grass a few yards from her. A cloud drifted in front of the sun; a breeze tugged some leaves free of the trees. One tangled in Lisbon's hair.

Almost out of nowhere, a numbness filled everything but her eyes. Tears squeezed out of them and rolled down her face.

Lisbon snatched the tears away with the back of her hand and got to her feet. Sitting alone when she should be at work, pondering what had gone wrong in her life and who was to blame for her misfortune-that was something _Jane _would do. In the CBI's attic, thinking about his wife and children and Red John. Blaming himself.

Lisbon felt a tightening in her chest when she pictured Jane alone, but then quelled it. Jane may not have forced her to lie to Davis, but then again, she would not have done so many risky things in her career had she never met him.

She found her resolve and held onto it for dear life. As soon as she was back in the SUV, she dialed Van Pelt's number and told her she would be at the office in five minutes.

Lisbon would not move, bend or break for Patrick Jane again. No matter how desperately he pleaded, or how many paper animals he made, or how many cases he'd helped to close in the past. He was just another person she worked with. She wasn't anything special to him.

As she pulled into her parking space, she tried to ignore how that realization hurt more than losing her job ever could.

* * *

"So…what's up with Lisbon? She's been acting funny all day."

"Don't know. Why don't you ask her?"

"Well, I would. But you guys are just closer, Cho. She likes you better."

"Lisbon likes most people equally."

"Most people…equally?"

"Right. Go ask Van Pelt. She's Lisbon's BFF, you know."

"Really?"

"No."

* * *

"Hey, boss! Can I talk to you for a minute?" Van Pelt asked.

"Update on Volker?" Lisbon asked hopefully, as Van Pelt took the chair across from her.

"Nothing new…sorry. I'll keep looking. But Cho and Rigsby are taking turns questioning him. Of course, his lawyer hasn't left his side, so…" she looked down at her lap for a moment, then met Lisbon's eyes with a smile. "I just wanted to ask how your meeting with Davis went."

The older agent's eyes widened. She knew Van Pelt wasn't asking such a question to embarrass her. That meant Bertram hadn't mentioned their meeting to her team yet; he might not bring it up until after she had already been replaced, to avoid a scene. Maybe that was the best way.

"It went fine. Just had some minor paperwork to do, you know, since she gave me the warrant in a hurry. Basically just a follow-up." She was being too verbose and she knew it. Van Pelt would surely pick up on it.

"Oh! Well, that's good. I was worried it might have been something serious. I don't remember you ever having follow-ups with judges before." Van Pelt was dangling the bait, giving Lisbon the option to get it all off her chest. She considered Van Pelt a friend, and friends did confide in each other. But she imagined the redhead's face when she told her the news: crumpled, outraged, lined with stress and worry. Basically the same face and worry that Jane inflicted on _her_ time and time again.

"Yeah, Davis is an unusual person. I think she wanted to hear that we had nothing on Volker," she said, then pulled her best 'we are women together' conspiratorial face, and leaned forward. Van Pelt mirrored her. "I think she just hates me. She'll get over it." Then she smiled and sat back in her chair, and relaxed when Van Pelt laughed.

"Maybe you should get Jane to pay her a visit. Let him sit in her office for a few hours. She'll probably resign before Monday." She kept laughing, but Lisbon could only force a smile.

"Yeah, I'll think about it. Anyway, I have a lot to do here today…but why don't you take Rigsby and Cho to get lunch? It's almost three. You all need a break." Anything to get her some space before she cracked.

"Sure. You want me to bring you anything?" Van Pelt asked, standing up and pushing her chair under.

"No thanks. I brought mine today. I'll see you later!" She smiled as she watched the junior agent go. Then, on cue, her stomach growled. She glanced at the mound of paperwork and decided it could wait a few minutes.

She was just about to grab her sandwich from the fridge when Jane appeared in the kitchenette. He put his empty cup and saucer in the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse it out.

"Good afternoon, Lisbon! As I'm sure you've noticed, I've been very careful to avoid you and all possible flying projectiles this morning. So, do you miss me yet?" His happy tone rubbed Lisbon just exactly the wrong way. She realized she'd been watching him with the refrigerator door open, so she snatched her brown paper sandwich bag out and slammed the door shut, then dropped her bag on the nearest table.

"How could I have missed you, when you haven't been around for me to throw something heavy and sharp at you?" She ripped the paper bag open angrily, for dramatic effect. Jane's left eyebrow shot up to his hairline. He filled his cup with more tea and sat down in the chair across from Lisbon. She still stood, glaring daggers at his face.

"Tsk. Well, that's not of much use now, is it?" he observed of her lunch bag, lifting his tea to his lips to gently blow on it. As his eyes focused on hers, just looking at her, indifferent to her distress (which she was at the moment blaming on his very existence) Lisbon lost it. If he had gone through something even one tenth as painful as she had that morning, she would be doing anything in her power to comfort him. Because that was the kind of person she was. A giving, caring, selfless person. He'd said so himself. So why would he treat a person he thought of so highly in such a callous way?

Without thinking, Lisbon's hand shot out, lightning fast. She ripped Jane's teacup away from his hand, spilling tea everywhere, and hurled it as hard as she could against the kitchen cabinets. More tea and ceramic pieces splattered everywhere, an almighty noise alerting everyone on their floor that someone was either extremely clumsy or Patrick Jane had pissed someone off (again).

Her hand was a little burnt and a drop of tea trickled down one finger. Jane only stared at her, more shocked than she'd ever seen him. It took her a minute to realize that a few people had gathered at the door of the kitchenette to watch her meltdown. Her chest was heaving in rage; her face burned painfully. A dark, wet splotch on Jane's shoulder clung to his skin.

She had nothing to say. She had no explanation for how violently she'd just behaved. It had just happened. Then, Jane spoke.

"That was actually my favorite teacup, Lisbon."

Any guilt she'd felt immediately evaporated.

"Well. That's not of much use now, is it?" she hissed corrosively. Jane's mouth actually popped open; any other time, Lisbon would have been satisfied with his reaction. But not today.

She turned and launched herself out of the room, nearly knocking down the gawkers in the doorway.

* * *

On Friday, Jane did not show up to work.

The rest of her team had evidently heard about their confrontation, because they were steering clear of any interaction with her. Van Pelt would glance at her occasionally. She didn't seem surprised over Lisbon's outburst. Well, Lisbon hadn't felt that she'd really fooled her.

The only person she was fooling anymore was herself. She knew what the other departments thought about her. They didn't close half as many cases without Jane. He was the star. He was handsome, charismatic and had a traumatic past: instantly intriguing. Lisbon was just average, if that adjective wasn't too generous. She paled in comparison to Jane. At first, that had really bothered her, but over the last few years she'd come to just accept it. Other people could think what they wanted.

But _Jane _worked with her closely. He knew everything about her, even things she hadn't meant to tell him. He was essentially her closest friend. And so this betrayal felt ten times worse.

_Or maybe you just don't want to admit that it's all on you. _

No, of course she knew she had her own free will. Jane hadn't forced her into anything.

_Or had he? 'We become like those we love,' after all._

Lisbon sighed. She'd had enough revelations to last her a while. Being in love with Jane was just not something she could deal with this weekend. Or ever, really.

When she asked for the hundredth time if Volker had given away any more vital information, Lisbon realized it was time to go home. She had two officers finally escort him to a more permanent cell. He could at least be booked for the attempted kidnapping of the boy. He wasn't going anywhere for a while, and she wanted him to realize it as soon as possible.

As she said goodbye to the rest of the team, she comforted herself with the thought that hope was not lost. The child had witnessed Volker and his accomplices commit murder, and his testimony would help put Volker away for a long time. But there was still the matter of the other deaths-ones too personal for Lisbon to think of-and the many slain in a village she'd never seen. Until she could get him to confess, she knew she wouldn't get a full night's sleep. The anxiety was exhausting, however, and so she headed home at a decent hour.

Justice would have to wait until Monday…if she wasn't thrown out, and the case along with her.

* * *

Jane lay on his back, legs hanging off his motel bed at the knee. He wiped his eyes with his hands and groaned. How many more times would he have to go over the reasons why he shouldn't run to Lisbon's apartment and just tell her everything?

He knew Lisbon was enraged, hurt, mortified because of him. He'd given her advice and she'd taken it in good faith. He did feel slightly responsible, but he was astute enough to realize that he'd made plenty of suggestions to Lisbon over the years, and she hadn't started taking them quite so easily until recently.

He knew what had changed. What he couldn't figure out was whether or not _she _knew what he did. Judging from her vicious assault on his favorite piece of china, the truth was becoming clearer.

Jane would rather not cause Lisbon pain. She was irreplaceable to him. When he'd said before that he would leave the CBI if Lisbon did, he'd meant it. He would find Red John some other way. He _would_. Lisbon might join him; they might form an unemployed, crime-fighting, Red John hunting team. They'd find him in days. Minutes.

But truthfully, he'd rather her feel enraged, hurt and mortified for any reason other than the truth. The agony of the truth was much, much worse than losing her job. Once Red John found out what that truth entailed, Lisbon's life would be in danger. Through all his attempts to get Jane on his side, he'd revealed that he already knew much about Jane's feelings for the raven-haired agent. If he knew how ingrained they were, though, how unshakeable…Jane shuddered to think.

He dropped his hands to his sides, his eyes opening wide.

Lisbon was better off never knowing. He would never tell her. She still had the ability to love deeply and selflessly, and to care about the wellbeing of people she barely knew. She was such a saint that she would sacrifice her own life to save a total stranger. _Saint Teresa._

Teresa Lisbon had more of a chance at happiness in her life than Jane ever would. He was a broken person. With every day that went by, he felt himself slowly losing hope that he would ever catch the man who had murdered his family. Lisbon was so sure and certain. His only certainty.

And if he knew her like he thought he did, then she was the person knocking on his motel room door at one in the morning.

He thought about not answering. She would eventually go away if he ignored her.

But who was he kidding?

Jane tried in vain to brush the wrinkles from his vest as he opened the door.

_Of course._

"We need to talk. Right now. Because honestly, I don't want to have to worry all weekend about where I stand with you on top of stressing out over my employment status." She walked right in, not waiting to be invited. Jane took a deep breath and shut the door.

"Lisbon, now is _really _no good for me."

"What?" she snapped, dropping her keys on the shabby dining table. "Have to write down in your diary how crazy I was today?" She collapsed in one of the chairs, sighing heavily. Jane immediately felt sorry for her.

"It's not a diary," he whispered. "It's a journal. And no, I only write down new experiences." To give her space, he sat on the foot of his bed, a good ten feet from her. As he took his seat, he noticed a disappointed flash in her eyes.

"I broke your favorite teacup. That's never happened before."

"Yes, you have. Accidentally. Last year, you bumped it off the counter when you were getting yourself coffee. Luckily, you only chipped it."

"I did? Oh. Then, why was it still your favorite? Why not just get a new one?" she asked, looking a little more interested than depressed. Jane took a deep breath.

"Because…it wasn't my favorite _until _you chipped it, Lisbon." That little statement felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders. Not all of it, by any means, but enough to get him to the next moment. Lisbon's expression changed; her eyebrows knit together and familiar creases appeared on her forehead. _Please, don't make me explain it._

"Oh. OK…" That was all. Jane sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"My little teacup was a lot like you. When I wanted it, it was there. It was kind of a depressing color of blue but it had flecks of color here and there. The bottom wasn't even so it never sat right on the table, but there you go. And the little chip you put in it was just a very Lisbony kind of thing. I don't know what to tell you." He grimaced. It had started off okay, but toward the end, he'd lost his train of thought. Lisbon looked more confused, and a little peeved.

"'The bottom wasn't even…'?" she ventured, sidetracked from the doom and gloom.

"Well, that's obviously not what I meant. Your bottom is fine."

It was her turn to grimace. And she blushed a little, too.

"That's…OK. Look, I've done a lot of thinking today. Most of it had to deal with you. And how much of this I think is your fault." Jane allowed himself to let out the breath he'd been holding. Thankfully, his Lisbon knew when and how to change a painful subject…albeit this time it was to the exact subject he _didn't_ want to talk about.

"How much of it are you blaming on me?" he asked abruptly, genuinely curious. Lisbon sighed and rolled her eyes.

"It's hard for me to say. On the one hand, if I had never met you, what happened would most definitely not have happened. But at the same time, I also wouldn't have scared Volker into uncharacteristically attempting a kidnapping in public. Then he wouldn't be in custody…so, I'm stuck between blaming everything on you and thanking you for everything. Split right down the middle. But the bottom line is, my job is up in the air right now. If there's an ethics investigation, God only knows how many times they'll find I've bent the rules for you. And Jane, I know you know how important this is to me. I can't lose it. This is all I've ever wanted to do." Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she fought to blink them away. Jane felt his broken heart rip to even smaller shreds in his chest.

He wanted to wipe her tears away, but instead settled for moving to take a seat at the table beside her. She only stared at him, waiting for him to console her. He didn't know how.

"Lisbon…you know…they'll never fire you. I've told them I'll leave if they do. I meant it. They don't want to lose me."

"What the hell, Jane!" she started, sitting up stiffly. "You just-are-you always find a way to make someone else's crisis about you. I swear, you think you can just do anything you damn please and get away with it. You just do what the hell ever you want all the time and nothing ever happens to you, because of idiots like me who can't tell you NO!"

Lisbon slammed her open hand on the table and her keys slid toward her half an inch. Jane leaned further back in his seat, keeping his face empty.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." She really didn't.

"Yes, I do. It's literally been years since you've been truly punished for anything. Even though you _murdered _someone, you get to walk around like you did the world a favor!" Lisbon's tears were completely gone. She was on the edge of her seat, her upper body leaning across the table. Jane pushed his back further into his chair so she couldn't strangle him.

"I did! Timothy Carter was a monster who deserved what he got!" he yelled, gripping the seat of his chair.

"Everyone is a monster, Jane! It's just to what _degree_ of a monster are you? What makes you think you're any better than anyone else? You're not any better than me, and yet somehow you get off for murder and my life could be _over_ because I got caught in a lie? For _you_?"

Jane snapped. He'd had just about enough of everything.

"Would you SHUT UP, Lisbon? Losing your job doesn't mean your life is over! Statistically everyone on earth gets fired at some point in their lives. And you can try to make me feel guilty for murdering Carter, but I was tried and judged by the laws you live by and I believe justice prevailed." He mustered every ounce of courage he had and stood, bent to her eye level, and placed his hands palms down on the table. "And if I could do whatever I wanted and get away with it, I'd kiss you until you couldn't breathe and you forgot what a repulsive _monster _I am."

It was like he'd slapped her. She sank back in her chair so quickly that it knocked the wind from her lungs. She was a mess with pieces of dark hair clinging to the trails her tears had left behind. Fierce and frightening and he still wanted to kiss her.

He straightened up and headed straight for the door. He yanked it open to see it was pouring rain. How ridiculously appropriate.

"Leave. You should leave now."

"What? After-"

"I want you to get the hell out of here. Do not come back here. I'll see you at work on Monday." Every word, he was sure, hurt him more than it did her.

"Jane." She only said his name, her face completely stricken. Disbelieving.

"Go away."

"I'm not leaving! We need to talk about this!" Her voice was very calm. Her eyes were dry. It brought him little relief.

"It must bother you so much that you're behaving like me. I never realized that you held such a low opinion of me, Teresa." He spat her first name, so she would know he was being serious. He urgently needed her to go. Red John could even be watching as he spoke.

"I don't see you that way. I was angry." She stood from the table, but left her keys and walked toward him. Warning bells rang in his head.

"Lisbon, no. I'm begging…" his voice broke and faded, and to his relief, she stopped. The only sound was the rain pouring outside. It sounded much like the blood pounding in his ears. Then something dawned in Lisbon's face, and just like that, she had him all figured out. He really didn't give her enough credit.

"You're afraid," she whispered. He could barely hear her over the weather. "This is just like what Volker did. He came to the CBI and put on this act that he had won and we had no way of catching him. But you saw right through him. You knew he was afraid. And I know right now you don't really want me to go. You're just afraid Red John will find out if I stay."

Jane slammed the door, surprising them both. He desperately wanted her to stop talking and _never _stop talking. He took two steps toward her so he was close enough to brush the stray strands of hair from her face, but he kept his hands at his side. She shouldn't have even been there, let alone allowing him to touch her.

"Say something," she demanded, as still as he was. He wouldn't oblige her, though. "I just need to hear it from you. Then I'll go. I promise. There's no one here but us, Jane."

"Why do you need to hear anything from me?" His voice sounded tired.

"Just-so I'll feel vindicated. So I won't feel like I was being crazy by listening to you. I'll deal with losing my job and my credibility. I can do it if you just tell me I did it for reason."

She made perfect sense. But he didn't believe her. Lisbon would never be able to deal with having to turn over her badge. He would never want her to feel okay about it.

"No. You need to go home. I want you to leave. And if you don't, I will, and you won't ever see me again."

Her mouth dropped open, but she quickly snapped it shut. Anger was replacing shock and he only had a few minutes before that, too, would wear off.

"I have to catch Red John, Lisbon. My revenge will always come first. You should remember that."

That was all it took. He saw the pain in her face as he reinforced an idea he already knew she'd had. That she was and would always be second to the ghosts of his family. He wasn't so sure, but she didn't need to know that. She _needed _to go. He set his face like a stone and opened the door again. The sound of rain falling enveloped them.

Lisbon just stared at him, looking torn.

When she made up her mind, her shoulders relaxed and she set her jaw, grabbed her keys and walked past him to the door.

"I'm sorry to have to let you down, Lisbon." He said, in one last great effort to piss her off by being unbearably pitying and condescending.

"You didn't," she replied stiffly. "The only person you could possibly hurt anymore, Jane, is yourself."

Then she turned her face away and ran out into the rain.

* * *

Monday morning finally came. Most people would have dreaded the start of the work week, but Lisbon had been anxiously anticipating the moment all weekend. As soon as she walked into the bullpen, everyone stopped idly chattering and pretended to work. Van Pelt's concerned face was the last thing she saw before she sat down at her desk and determined she would avoid eye contact with everyone all day until the moment came that she was told to empty her desk. Then she would say her goodbyes and just leave. No tearful farewells. She was horrible at those.

She also didn't want to run the risk of looking up and catching Jane's eye. She was sure he wasn't in yet, because it was eight in the morning, but the idea of seeing him was more unpleasant than trying to figure out how to cram all her belongings in one cardboard box.

A thought came to her, and she opened her bottom desk drawer and pulled out handfuls of origami animals. She tossed them on her desk and was reaching down to grab one that had sprung free from her grasp when she heard someone clear their throat.

"Agent Lisbon. May I have a word with you in my office? Now?"

Lisbon froze. It was Bertram. It was time.

She truly hated to be melodramatic, but she wondered if this was how criminals felt when they were being escorted to the electric chair. She nodded to Bertram and stood, prepared to follow him. She glanced back at her office-they'd probably have someone clean it out for her. Her eyes alighted on the origami creatures once more and a lump gathered in her throat. What if they were thrown away?

"Just one moment, please, excuse me," Lisbon muttered to Bertram, who looked back curiously after her. Lisbon rushed back into her office and snagged her favorite creation-an origami swan from Jane-and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. She cast one last glance at everything else, and left with a heavy heart.

"Everything alright, Lisbon?" Bertram asked, sizing her up. Like she was defective.

"Of course. Your office?"

Once there, Bertram wasted no time with small talk. He gestured for her to sit, and she did. She sat up straight, both feet on the floor, knees together and hands folded in her lap. It was all she could do, though, not to get on her knees and beg him to reconsider giving her the axe.

She'd tried begging with Jane, though, and it hadn't gotten her very far.

"I've just this morning received a reply from the review board. Please know that if I'd had this response earlier, say, this weekend, I'd have called to let you know. I know this has been hard on you, Agent Lisbon."

"It has." _Just get on with it. _

"I have good news and bad." Bertram was looking down at paperwork on his desk. Then his face snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. "Which would you like first?"

This caught Lisbon off guard. What good news? Nothing was good about being in this office at eight fifteen on a Monday morning.

"Uh…the bad, I guess."

"Well, the bad news is, I have to suspend you. I'll need your badge and gun for one week. You'll be paid during this time, of course. Starting next Monday, you'll be back and I'll return those to you," he said, pointing at her hip where her badge and gun were holstered.

"That's…all? One week? Then what?" she asked, robotically removing the requested items from her side. She felt naked already.

"Then nothing. That's the good news, Agent. The board determined that, while you were not entirely forthcoming with the judge about what kind of evidence you had, it was determined that you are an exceptional agent, and your gut instinct, along with that of Jane's and the rest of your team, justified your actions. You had personal insight that Judge Davis did not have in this particular case. And, of course, in light of the fact that a dangerous criminal is off the streets thanks to your efforts. You might like to know it was seen as a heroic move on your part, Lisbon. This will be very good press for us. Amazing that you could instinctually _know_ that you'd find evidence eventually. Fantastic." He crossed his arms with an unnecessary flourish and leered at her. But Lisbon knew it was all bullshit, what he'd been told to say. He didn't agree with her being let off the hook one bit. And it was killing him to have to congratulate her on a job well done.

She would have given anything to see the look on Judge Davis' face.

"Well, that's all I have to say. Have a nice week, Lisbon. Not too nice, though. Wouldn't want you to enjoy something more than your job." He was still grinning as he locked her badge and gun in his desk drawer. Lisbon winced, but she determined this was a punishment she would gladly accept. The bit of Jane that had rubbed off on her was even excited at the prospect of a week off with pay.

It was a very, very small part of her, though.

Lisbon left Bertram's office feeling twenty pounds lighter, nearly dizzy with relief. As she passed Van Pelt and Cho on the way out, she smiled easily at them and stopped to explain.

"Well, unfortunately I've been suspended-"

"What? Boss, they can't do that!" Van Pelt started, but Lisbon held up her hand.

"Only for a week. I'll even get paid for it. After the weekend I had, I do need a break," she finished, and Cho and Van Pelt looked a little shocked.

"Okay…if you say so…Is this over the warrant?" Van Pelt asked, looking concerned.

"Yes. But as unhappy as Bertram is about it, I'll be back on Monday. So I'm leaving you in charge, Cho. Don't let Rigsby eat everything in the fridge. See you Monday," she grinned, and turned to leave. Then, she had an evil idea. "Oh…if you don't mind…don't tell Jane any of this. If he asks where I am, just ignore him. Let him freak out a little."

She wasn't sure they could handle it, based on their bewildered expressions, but she determined that even if Jane thought she had been fired, he would stay with the CBI, just to be near to the Red John case. She wasn't an idiot. He'd more than proved what mattered most to him.

Still, she would cry about it when she got home and probably for the duration of her entire week off. But on Monday, she'd be fine. It would be like Patrick Jane had never even had her heart to break it.

On her way home, she stopped by Marie's and got a bear claw and a cup of coffee. Then she stopped by a video rental store and grabbed a particularly gory B-movie. After a trip to the gas station, a quick run to the grocery store and waiting for every single stoplight she encountered, she was home. And there was Jane's blue Citroen, hugging the curb, the engine off. No one inside it.

Of course he would be inside her home already, having picked the lock.

When she opened the door, he was sitting on her sofa. The TV was off and he wasn't reading a book. He was just sitting there in the quiet, alone.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded immediately, kicking her door closed with her foot. Her arms were full of groceries, so she went to drop them off in the kitchen, passing by him as she went.

"I came to see how you were doing. After what happened today."

He followed her into her kitchen. She ignored him, ignored her heart beating wildly in her chest, and put a box of cereal in the pantry. Her face flamed when she thought about the last time she had seen him, and the things she'd begged him to say to her.

"I don't want to talk about what happened today. Everything worked out. That's that." Lisbon jerked open the fridge to stuff in a jug of milk.

"What? What do you mean 'everything worked out'? You were fired! You took one of the presents I gave you. I knew it was your favorite one. You didn't have to leave the others scattered around like you did. They were mangled. Like some colorful car accident or something." Lisbon rearranged a few things in her fridge and then stood upright, closed the door and turned around. Jane was right behind her, and she ran straight into him.

"I'm fine, Jane. I wasn't fired. I'm only on suspension this week. Wouldn't you know it, I actually got away with something a little bit wrong for once in my life. I'm sure I've used up my limit for infinity." She stepped around him and began to rummage around in her grocery bags for something else to put away.

"You're not fired?" he asked, sounding confused and relieved and hopeful. Lisbon stopped to look at him.

"You aren't entitled to all the free passes, Jane. I can be a charming hero, too." She smiled at him wickedly, but couldn't look away from his face. It seemed torn. She couldn't understand why he was having trouble accepting that she hadn't, in fact, lost her job.

"I never said you weren't a hero. Or charming." He glanced toward her living room thoughtfully, and then back to her face. The movement caused her to glance around the wall that divided her kitchen and living room. She saw one cardboard box on her coffee table. The realization of what was inside sank in.

"Oh, God, Jane! Did you pack up my desk? Oh no! Everyone will think I'm not coming back! No, no…Van Pelt will explain…she'll tell everyone…" As she spoke, she rushed into her living room toward the box, and as soon as she reached it, she stopped, stunned. "What is all this stuff?" She picked up a blue and red rubber ball covered in scratches and held it up for Jane to see. He stood behind her. Reaching out, he took the ball in his hand and looked at it fondly.

"This. I throw this at Rigsby's head when he's not looking. It bounces pretty far, too." He smiled, and looked down at her.

"Jane…that's not mine." Lisbon looked back into the box. "None of this is. Where is my stuff?"

"In your office," Jane said. "I didn't want to make a scene. Figured you'd have hated that. So I just packed my stuff and left." He shrugged his shoulders like it meant nothing. Lisbon's heart nearly stopped.

"You…left the CBI? What about Red John? How will you find him?" Disbelieving, she couldn't take her eyes off the contents of the box. Pencils, never sharpened, because he never took notes. A notebook that looked completely unused. Toenail clippers. A strange fuzzy thing with a google eye stuck to it. A crazy straw. Two tea bags.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Lisbon, Red John knows where I am. He knows where you are. He knows how important you are to me. When he wants you, he will come after you to use you against me. After you left the other night, it occurred to me that he could have gotten you that very minute, while you ran to your car." His voice grew softer, much gentler than she'd ever heard it. Lisbon gave him her full attention. She didn't miss when his hand slipped down to encircle her wrist.

"So I decided that when I saw you at work this morning, I was going to tell you that you weren't crazy to take my advice. You honestly wouldn't have if you didn't feel it was necessary, no matter how much you may value me or my opinion. You are your own person. You are capable of making your own decisions. And if you decided that you needed the truth from me about why I'm afraid, then you must know you can handle hearing it."

Jane kept his eyes on Lisbon's as he took his belongings out of her hands and replaced them in the box. Then he took both of her hands in his own. He'd held her hands before, but never so much as he was then. It felt foreign to them both, but not in a bad way. In a thrilling, eager way.

He looked into her expectant face again, and her eyes were shining. She knew what was coming, but hearing it would erase any doubt. He cherished the moment as she gripped his hands, biting her lower lip. He only hoped that she would always look at him that way.

"I love you."

"I love you back," she answered immediately, then laughed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. This time, he wiped them away. "I'm sorry about your teacup," she mumbled, burying her face in his neck. _What a ridiculous thing to say_, she thought.

"I'm sorry about that teacup, too. It was my favorite. Completely irreplaceable." He wrapped his arms around her body and took a deep breath, enjoying how warm she was and how familiar and safe she smelled.

She looked up into his face, and saw the worry there.

"We will be okay. We always are." Her face was an inch from his. Her hands slid up his arms. As strange as it felt, it was also freeing. And

it make her shake just a little all over as her body seemed to finally warm up after days of begin frozen.

"Are you cold?" he asked, grinning and pulling her closer. He determined that, just to be on the safe side, he would have to keep her within arm's reach at all times. It was really for the best. He'd win that argument later.

Lisbon closed the distance, and kissed him.

"No." She kissed him again. He gripped her tighter and swallowed his groan. Then she pulled her lips away and slowly untangled herself from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice husky.

"I bought groceries," she reminded him, walking away with a smile. "I need to finish putting them away. There's a DVD in here somewhere," she called.

Jane didn't move, only listened to the sounds of grocery bags rustling. He was too afraid that if he did, he would wake up on his couch, and it would all have been a dream.

"Jane? I can't find it." She walked back out of the kitchen and into his view. She was still there. Dressed in her work clothes, still looking every bit as she did when he'd met her. Still grinning from ear to ear, he reached in his vest pocket and pulled out the plastic DVD box. What fun he was going to have with this woman.

"Tell me honestly. Did you know I had it the _whole_ time?"

* * *

**END**

If you liked it, please review. If you didn't like it, please review. If you barely skimmed the ending before you read the whole thing to make SURE they got together in the end, REVIEW, because I'd like to know I'm not the only weirdo who does that.

:)


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